The Dragon's Journey
by Luna Moon 85
Summary: Monsters aren't born; They're made. Before Alucard was a vampire, he was a human living in the middle ages; It was not a time known for humane treatment of human beings.
1. Prologue

**The Dragon's Journey**

**Prologue**

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An: Please Review

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*Crack**Boom* the storm roused the a young prince from sleep. He brought his knees to his chest as he realized that he was in the darkness. His head turned to the nightstand where the exhausted candle stood. The wax, now cold and hard lay at it's base. The Prince had one of the woman who put him into bed leave it lit. He didn't want his father to know that he still sleep with the candle lit. The man had told him two years ago that he was too old for such things.

The prince's father was not what one would call a sensitive man. Many had called him downright cold. Never once one had he ever even hugged him. The older man had explained to the boy that men did not hug. His father also explained the many other things which men did not do. Among the long list of what men could not do, the boy longed to find something that men did do so that he could do this with his father, without catching the look of disapproval and disappointment in the man's eyes.

Unfortunately for the boy, what little time, his father did not spent with affairs of country, he always chose to spend with his new wife and youngest son, Radu.

So as time progressed his older brother, Mircea, only four years older than he, become more and more his father figure.

He just could not sleep in the dark. The darkness and anything associated with it frightened him, Thunderstorms too.

Mircea had once explained to him that that one should not fear the dark, they should conquered it.

The boy brought his knees up to his small chest.

The lightning lit-up the room. *Crack**Boom*

Then he heard the sound of wolves howling in the distance. This made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand-up on end. There were monsters out there.

He held onto his knee now very tightly. Mirceahad told him that wolves were not monsters, just animals, but they still scared him. He put his hands to his ears so he couldn't them or the storm.

When he was scared he relied on two things, Mircea and his cross. It was a large cross, which he had had for many years. It had been the last thing that his mother had given him. She had told him to hold it whenever he was scared. He had obeys these words and they had helped every time.

He reached for his cross which he always kept by the lamp on the nightstand. He didn't find it. So he leaned over more and fumbled in the dark. He still couldn't find it.

'Had he knocked it to the floor?' he moved onto all fours as he peered down onto the wooden floor. Again and again he looked. His eyes carefully searched the wooden floor of the dark room. He didn't see any spots darker than the others. He knew that he could get out of bed to look on the floor for it, but....what about the monster inside?

The prince didn't know how he knew this, but he believed wholeheartedly that there was a monster which lived either under his bed or in the closet depending on its preference for the night. He knew that it especially liked to eat children, because like lamb and veal they were more tender than the adults.

*Crack* *Boom* another series of bolt lighting and thunder rumbled the room. Scaring the boy once again.

Then he sighted it. On the far side of the room, under the one window, it sat.

The location couldn't be worse for this window was between his bed and the closest to his closet.

The prince looked outside the window. Though he could not see anything through the rain or the clouds which produced it, he could feel that dawn would be there soon.

This caused a dilemma for the boy. He could wait until morning, until the rays of dawn arrived to get it, or he could retrieve it right then. The boy also considered calling for help from Mircea, but...what if the monster were sleeping, this would wake it up? Or what if his father came instead? He could picture the scene of his father bursting in yelling at him. He did not want his father to lecture him, again, on the older man's beliefs that monsters did not exist, not when he knew that there was one in his bedroom!

No...he thought. He wouldn't call for help. He'd need to do this on his own, regardless of the consequences.

His eyes looked to the closet. He didn't see anything, while this seem to imply to the boy that the monster was hiding under the bed, he knew that the closet was deep and the monster, sly. He knew that the monster was probably watching and waiting for him to jump down.

But was he really willing to risk his life to get it?

This debate was not new to the prince, who had when he was a bit younger chosen on many occasions to wet the bed, rather than risk his life to get to the bathroom. Now he had a jar which he kept on the other side of the bed for such an emergency.

He further considered the problem at hand. The candle was out and with no way for him to light it. With no light to protect him from this creature of the dark, He knew that he needed the cross. While he believed that he was safe on the bed, he wondered how safe one could truly be without the Almighty's protection. If the evil beast were to discover that he wasn't wearing such a holy object it might for sure attack him regardless of where he was. He couldn't believe that he actually took it off.

The prince took a deep breath. He knew that their was a thin line between cowardice and wisdom...at least that was what he had heard.

Bottom line, he quickly decided that he'd rather be a brave idiot than wise coward.

He took another deep breath. He quickly dashed over to the window, ready to fight the monster, grabbed his cross and ran as quick as his short legs could move back to his bed .

He sat there on top of his blankets for a moment allowing himself to catch his breath.

He grinning looked down at the cross.

He knew that he had shown true courage just now. While he would never tell anyone of his bravery, he knew for sure that two would know of it; himself and, of course, God. For this boy it was enough to show this proud moment to the Omnipotent being. While words to the heavenly father, were all good and well, it was the actions of his earthly followers which were surely more likely to please him. He smiled widely as he thought of what he had just shown the all seeing, all knowing entity: He had just shown him that he would risk, or even sacrifice his life for his god. He would do anything for his god. He had sworn it when he joined the order of the dragon. Now he had made his first step toward proving it, beyond a doubt to the Almighty Father.

He grabbed the covers and snuggled comfortably beneath them. His small hands held onto the cross like most children hold onto their teddy bears.

Prince Vlad III stayed like this until he drifted off to sleep.

The boy lay there, pure, looking like an angel from heaven. A happy smile, the perfect expression for this child looking like it would always be a permanent feature on his face. He blissfully dreamt sweat dreams, dreams which would soon turn into nightmares, as cruel fate would soon start to twist this innocent little boy into something so dark that even he himself would never be able to escape.

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END of prologue

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AN: If there is enough interest in this I will continue it, if not...

This chapter is to introduce Vlad or young Dracula before he was the person his historical figure become. For the Hellsing cannon this provides a glimpse of Alucard before he was a monster, a time when he like any normal child was afraid of thunderstorms, darkness and monsters under the bed and closet.

It is easy to forget that Alucard was once an innocent human being with human wants and needs and fears.

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Preview of the next chapter: **Hostage**

"We are here to fulfill a promise made by our father to uphold the peace between our two nations." Vlad declared trying his best to sound both grown-up and diplomatic.

To which the large man chuckled. "I know why you are here, but do you?"

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	2. Chapter 1: Hostage

**The Dragon's Journey**

**Chapter 1: Hostage**

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AN: This story is not beta-ed so....I apologize for any mistakes. If anyone would like to beta this let me know.

Please review. Let me know how much interest there is in this story.

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**1444: 5 Years Later......**

Two boys, from Wallachia followed a servant into a large richly decorated room.

Lining the walls of this large room were were tall pillars and silk fabric hanging between each. Standing no more than one foot from these pillars and silk were Turkish men all armed with sharp swards, which the older of them guessed to be guards.

At the back of the wall, between two sets of large doors there was a platform made of finely polished marble, which rose up several stairs. At the top on a chair made partially of gold sat a large man. He wore a white turban on top of his head, something neither of the sheltered boys had ever seen until then, and was dressed in extravagant robes; it's fabric had both silver and gold woven into it.

The younger boy was clearly frightened by this large man on the stone platform, as he timidly chose to hid behind his big brother.

The servant spoke to the large man on his great seat in a language which neither boys could understand.

'so' the older boy thought, 'this must be the sultan.'

The large man laughed. "So you are the youngest sons of Vlad II?" the large man considered his own words. His eyes immediately fell to Vlad III, who he identified to be around the age of his son who was 13, and next to him was a boy, Radu, who wasn't any older than 6 or 7 years old. Then his gaze returned to Vlad III and stayed there until Vlad cleared his throat.

"Greetings Sultan." Vlad addressed the large man.

"Greetings. Tell me, Which of you is named for your father?"

Vlad III took one step forward while his brother shrunk further behind.

"I am." Vlad said clearly. "I am Prince Vlad III of Wallachia." Vlad gave a little bow to show the sultan courtesy for the large man's station, even if he didn't truly respect the Turk Leader. He motioned to the boy hiding partially behind him. "This is my little brother, Radu."

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Murad II, Sultan of The Ottoman Empire."

Vlad III was silent. He keep watching the sultan waiting for him to show some sign of mutual respect, like a nod, or a bow to the princes, but he did nothing. The large man just sat there on his throne watching the boys with curious and hungry eyes. Radu continued to hide behind his brother.

The sultan's eyes fell on Radu. Vlad was quick to notice how long they stayed there. He cleared his throat again. He brought his shoulders back and stood as tall as his growing body could.

"We are here to fulfill a promise made by our father to uphold the peace between our two nations." Vlad declared trying his best to sound both grown-up and diplomatic.

To which the large man chuckled. "I know why you are here, but do you?"

Both boys were confused, but the older one was more so. Had he not just told the sultan why they were there? Or could there possible be something more to the larger man's words?

"Our meeting today was arranged by me," The large man began," I signed the treaty with your father, I even dictated many of the terms, but do you know what is happening. Do you know what is truly transpiring?" the large sultan started to grin triumphantly.

With this sultan's grin Vlad felt some odd feeling run through his entire body. "We are to stay with you to ensure peace...it's for the good of everyone..." Vlad explained his voice as steady as he could keep it. He had to stand tall in only for appearance and most importantly for Radu; He was the big brother after all.

"Is that what your father has told you? I think that you should know the truth of what is happening to you boys. This is no political visit. Your father has surrendered you to me so that he may prevent the invasion of my army."

"To ensure peace." Vlad insisted desperately.

"Peace?....Such an ignorant boy you are...he did it because he is frightened of me. He did it to save his own skin. To put this simply my young prince:You are my hostages. Your father is an ordinary cowardly Christian."

Before Vlad had time to think, he reacted, he pulled a knife from the belt of the nearby escorting guard, and had dashed towards the sultan with the sole intention of killing him. But too soon two sets of strong arms held him back.

The large man chuckled to himself. This time he stood up and walked down his platform, towards the boy. He stopped when he was a foot from him. He looked down at the boy. Vlad knew that this man was large in general, but he had not known that the sultan was so tall. The Turk's giant shadow cast over him so much that three boy's Vlad's size could have hid within it. Vlad should have been scared by this, but with the sultan's comment, it was rage, which held his body.

"My father is a great man." Vlad snared." He is a member of the order of the dragon. An order which exists to fight people like you!" had Vlad been calmer, he might have questioned giving out this information to the enemy's leader for he didn't even know if this large man was aware of such an order let alone the fact that his father was a member. He did however have the presence of mind not to mention that he too, since the age of 5, was a member of that order, because even if the sultan knew that his father was involved in such a league, it was Vlad, not his father, who was literally in the Sultan's grip.

"A great man? If your father is truly part of some group willing to quarrel with me, then why isn't he?"

A part of Vlad went numb. Vlad's mind raced to find something in the past while some occurrence of victory of his father over the turks. He failed to recall anything. Never in his life had he known his father to send troops to guard the boarders of his land even when Turks were spotted there.

"No your father, chooses money instead of gallantry as a means to defend his people from the wrath of his enemies."

"My father is a great man!" Vlad insisted once again.

"Perhaps you boys do not know this, but You're father gives me an annual tribute of 10,000 ducats and 500 people from his own country to keep me from invading your pitiful people's land.(1) But with your father's recent actions...This tribute is not longer enough. So I demanded the two of you." There was a short silence. "Two hours. Only Two hours after I demanded the two of you, he agreed. Now you stand here as my hostages. I imagine he is looking for a place to set up camp as we speak. Tomorrow he will continue on his way home. If I were asked to surrender my child...I would not bow down; I would put up a fight." the large man added thoughtfully. "I would not abandon him to the care of my enemies."

"You're lying." Vlad accused. "Our father wouldn't abandon us!"

The sultan's eyes narrowed. "No young prince; I am a man of my word. It is your father's mouth, which pours out falsehoods. cowardice; That is why you are here." The sultan's eyes narrowed further at Vlad." Were going to try to kill me? Not even 5 minutes in my presence and you tried to attack me. Your quite fiery aren't you? You'll be a difficult one, but eventually you will learn to accept things as they are. Some men would throw you to the dungeons for this...attempt on their life, but I am a forgiving man, so I will let this action go...this time. I understand that you are an ignorant, angry, and..." The sultan paused. His eyes shown something Vlad had only seen in his father's eyes when looking at Radu's mother. He extended his hand and cupped Vlad's face. "...such an attractive boy..." His hand stayed there for far too long while his thumb glide over the skin on this cheek. "...so smooth..." he mumbled. Vlad squirmed as best he could with the guards holding him in his very defenseless upright position. The sultan let his hand drop to his side. The large man turned away and returned to his chair where he assumed his previously cold and victorious demeanor.

"For the time being I think that you should go to your room young prince." the man snapped his fingers. A guard stepped forward at attention. "This is your new home. He will show you to you room. When you are fit to enter my company without intent to harm me you can meet my son, Mehmed II. He's a few months younger than you. I think that the two of you should get along fine. Until then you will have solitude. "

"Solitude?" questioned Radu speaking for the first time

"It means that he's separating us." Vlad answered.

"No!" Radu turned to face the sultan. "Please don't take him from me!" He turned back to face Vlad. He stood in place like a fence post.

"Do not worry; your brother will be fine. " the sultan assured Radu.

Vlad could see Radu's desire to go with him. But he could also sense that younger boy's terror at the prospect of being alone, was the cause of his immobilization. Radu had never before been alone. He had always had someone he knew, someone he felt safe with caring for him. Now the only person from who he could find safety was about to be taken away.

The Sultan spoke to the two guards in the foreign language.

The guards preceded with their instructions turning them around and taking him away from the Sultan.

"Vlad!" Radu cried. The little boy wanted his legs to work so badly, but they refused.

Vlad turned his head to watch his brother's expression of fear as he found himself surrounded by enemies in a foreign land.

The doors to the Sultan's audience chambers closed. The door soon became farther and farther from him as the guards dragged him away.

* * * * * * *

Next thing Vlad knew one of the guard was dragging him down a narrow hall into the a room. The door closed. He banged on it. "Let me out!"

The only response he got came to him it a language which he couldn't understand.

Vlad let his body fall to the floor. It began to sink in what the sultan had said. They really were hostages....His father...His father had told them that they would be guests...but guests weren't insulted or thrown and locked in their room. ...they really were hostages...His father...he really had lied to them.

Knowing this made the prince wonder about what else the Muslim had said. The large man had called his father a coward. His father wasn't a coward...was he? Vlad knew that the sultan could have said what he did about his father and Christians because he hated both...but there was something else in the sultan's words. The large man had been amused. No.... there was something in his father's words. He had said that they would be guests. He had described the experience like a mission for representatives to foreign nations...but he had sounded very worried as he had done so.

He put his head into his hands. He shouldn't have tried to attack the sultan. While he didn't regret the attack itself, he did see that it had only caused a greater problem for himself and his brother.

His brother, Radu, was now alone with sultan, with their sworn enemy...He no longer had his big brother to protect him. In addition to this he knew that his brother's young mind was still forming with ideas; He knew that as he stayed confined to his gilded prison, the sultan called his room, his brother's mind was being clouded with only God knew what...and there was nothing that he could do about it. He couldn't correct or challenge anything. He didn't know what was being said.

Everything was just ...so... This wasn't how things were suppose to be. His father had made a vow to protect Christianity at all costs, even to his own life...yet...if it was true what the Muslim had said. His father was indeed a coward no only before his own country, but before God himself.

....But his father was suppose to defeat the turks. He was supposed to help push back the expansionism of the Ottomans, not cower in fear. He had always been taught honor and strength from his father. Vlad knew that in order to teach something, one must know it. So if he father did knew of these things then why wasn't he practicing them? He had been yelled at by his father more times than he could recall about needing to be stronger. He had made himself stronger, not as strong as Mircea, but he had made himself a promise that he would be stronger than his big brother.

Vlad looked out the window from where he sat. There were iron bars on the outside of the large window. It seems that the sultan had no intention of letting him leave.

This place was so...everything was so different from Wallachia. He hadn't been there very long and he already wanted to go back home. How long would they be there? Months maybe even Years... he hoped not.

Vlad got up off the floor. He strode over to the bared window, his feet moving softly over the thick rugs. Leaning over the wide ledge, He peered out. There was a garden as his view. He watched a couple of Turkish Nobels, or he thought they were, walking and conversing in what he assumed to be their own bizarre language.

He looked up at the skyline. Some where beyond the sultan's territory was his native land. Home....would be ever see it again? He mentally slapped himself. Of course he would. He just needed a plan. He needed to find a way that the sultan would release them.

Vlad's head sank lowly on the ledge. The top of his head almost hit the bars as his forehead touched the cold stone windowsill. He sighed heavily. The sultan would never let them go. He'd keep them for the rest of their lives..or at least his. Vlad bet that the large man might not even release their bodies to the boy's mother country in the event of their death. He mused that the sultan might tuck their bones in some crates...or put on display.... like trophies.... He cringed at the thought of his body on display for the Muslim's amusement.

His thoughts traveled miles away as he wondered how his older brother was; did he even know that they were gone? Would his father tell Mircea that he had left the two younger of his sons into the lions' den? If Mircea didn't know, he would eventually. What would Mircea do? Would he just accept that this was for the good of the kingdom or would he try to rescue them? 'No' he thought. He wouldn't want his older brother to attempt anything so foolish. Vlad knew from their entrance in that there are too many guards; he'd get killed. Vlad didn't want that. No Vlad didn't want to be rescued, but he didn't want to spend his entire life there either.

He needed to escape. ....yes....he could escape. He imagined that it would be easier to get out of the place than it is to get in. He and his brother, Radu could escape...in the night or early morning would be best particularly while the guards were switching. Though Vlad didn't know if they would be welcomed back by his father and countrymen for this; they could always stay with their uncle in Moldavia....'No you can't' whispered the voice of reason in his head. It continued, 'if you leave the treaty will be broken; if you leave what would prevent the sultan from attacking and killing your people?'

Vlad turned around, now facing away from the window. he rested his palms on the sill and leaned backwards. He didn't feel like looking out at a world to which he did not belong. Nor did he want to gaze at the horizon wishing to back home for neither of these actions would undo his situation.

Vlad straightened his back. "There really is no way out of this." he said to himself...at least no way that wouldn't get a great many of his people killed. He didn't want the blood of his own people on his hands, even if only metaphorically. He'd have to bare it. He'd have to be strong, if nothing else for his brother's sake. His brother needed to be taken care of physically, mentally, emotional, and especially spiritually. While Vlad was sure that the sultan would provide them with the basics at minimum, he knew at best they could not possibly provide everything these boys would need; they were pagans after all, and as such could not truly understand the glory of God.

He decided that he would be his brother's keeper in what he expected would be many dark days ahead.

He'd live in the lion's den, and would ask for no angel to hold their jaws closed. He'd fight the beasts one-by-one if he had to. He would do this for his brother, his country and his God.

Vlad's hand lightly held his cross. "I will not fail you." he said to all three at once. He knew most importantly that God was watching him and he didn't plan to disappoint the Almighty Father.

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END of Ch 1

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AN: I'll try to be as historically accurate as I can, but this is a work of fiction.

This piece or any other of mine is by no means an attack on those of the Muslim faith.

Info: -Vlad III, (born 1431) son of Vlad II (born June 1390).

- Mehmed II – (born March 1432) son of Murad II Kodja (born June 1404)

(1) - Ducats are a form of currency used in Europe before 1914 (World War 1)

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Preview of the next chapter: **New Home**

The sultan put his large hand down the top part of Vlad's shirt.

Vlad Stiffened.

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